Humor Me
by healingmirth
Summary: Veronica and Weevil spend a rainy afternoon together. Rating for brief language.


Spoilers: Vaguely, through end of S2

Disclaimer: The characters of Veronica Mars are not mine, and are just borrowed for profit-free fun

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As children, we're taught to count the time between the lightning flash and the thunder, to see how far away the danger is, and whether the storm is coming or going. This storm's thunder was an endless roll, and the grey sky flickered like a strobe light. Any other time in the past two years, the weather would have been a horrible omen, but Veronica caught herself before she could slip into worry. For once she was gloriously, willfully, mystery-free. It was a good day to stay inside and rummage up some candles for when the lights inevitably went off. Some idiot who thought he knew how to drive in the sheeting rain was bound to slam into a power pole eventually.

Thunderstorms were rare enough in southern California, and thunderstorms in the middle of the summer were downright freakish. No one in his right mind would have been outside in this storm, so Veronica was startled when someone pounded on the apartment door. Surprise turned to shock when she saw who was standing outside. "Weevil! What are you doing here?" She dragged the drenched biker through the door and then stuck her head out to see if anyone saw him arrive, before she came to her senses and realized that even if anyone had been looking, they wouldn't have been able to see 3 feet through the deluge. "You can't hide here," she said as she turned.

Weevil stopped brushing the water off of his jacket and fake hurt washed over his face. "That wasn't the welcome I'd expected. I thought this was where all the accused murderers went to hang out." When Veronica didn't look amused, he continued. "I think you have me confused with your stupid '09er boyfriends. If I was running from the law, why would the first place I run be to Lamb's biggest enemy, a girl whose father hates me, and hunts people for a living? Cliff bailed me out."

"Cliff? $300 suit Cliff coughed up enough cash to make _murder_ bail out of the blue? Is that even legal?"

"Accessory to murder bail. Not even the power of Deputy Dog's mind could make murder charges stick when the witnesses saw me leave Thumper's dumb ass to wake up in the street."

"Okay, whatever, details. Still, Cliff?"

"Look, when Lamb walks in and tells me I'm free to go, I don't ask too many questions."

The idea of such an obvious question going unasked was clearly driving Veronica crazy. "Who would want you out of jail badly enough to put up that kind of money?"

"Dunno. Even if the Fitzpatricks were gunning for me, it's not like they needed to get me out of jail to kill me." Weevil put his hands up to fend off her questions. "Listen, V. I don't get a lot of breaks, and I'm not real concerned who's footing the bill for me to be a free man for a little longer. I've spent enough time behind bars to know that's not where I wanna be. I'm not gonna skip town, but I figure if I could spend my last few days before real time locked up, or in the southern California sunshine, I'd go for the sun." At this, Veronica looked pointedly at the downpour outside the window. "Okay, so maybe God is a little mad at me. Anyway, Cliff dropped me off at my uncle's shop to pick up some wheels. Car crapped out just down the road from here and I thought I'd take a chance that I could wait out the storm here instead of in a rustbucket on the side of the highway. As much as I'm enjoying this little interrogation, can I get a towel or something, or should I just keep standing here dripping?"

She realized with a start how inhospitable she was being, and before the absurdity of being polite to an uninvited felon set in, she scurried back to the closet to get some towels for Weevil to dry himself off. He took them without further comment, and went into the bathroom.

Veronica was in the kitchen when the bathroom door reopened, and she picked up the thread of the conversation. "Even if you're not hiding out, you still can't stay here. My dad still thinks you're…" the words died on her lips as Weevil walked back into view in all his tattooed, towel-draped glory.

He stifled a chuckle and flexed. "Dangerous?" he added helpfully. When Veronica didn't finish her thought, he held up his sodden pile of clothes. "Anywhere I can dry these off?"

"Trouble," she corrected. "I know this apartment is deceptively luxurious, but does it look like it has a laundry room hiding somewhere? The closest dryer is through 20 yards of torrential downpour, which sort of defeats the purpose. I can get you something to wear while those drip dry though"

Weevil debated the merits of, or the risk of death from, the sheriff finding out he had borrowed some clothes against the sheriff finding out he had been sitting around in just a towel with V. "Yeah, clothes would be good."

Once he was safely clothed in a worn t-shirt and some sweatpants, Veronica tried to get back to her point, again, but didn't make it any farther.

"I. Don't. Know. Also, don't care." Weevil grimaced as he settled on to the couch. "Any chance I can wait out the storm here without you making me wish I was back in Lamb's interrogation room?" He turned to the television that was still on behind him. "What're we watching?"

"Daily show rerun. All the fake news that's fit to broadcast. It's sort of like…"

"What kind of rock you think I live under? We do have television in the barrio you know. Something's gotta keep the rug rats busy while the grownups spend their lives cleaning up '09er messes." Weevil gestured dismissively at the screen. "Talky bastard, kinda like you, but if I can sit through Dora the Explorer, I can sit through this."

Veronica conceded that Weevil wasn't going to help figure out something that he didn't think needed figuring out, and settled back into her chair, staring blankly at the TV while her mind pored over the few details that she already knew. Weevil gave up pointedly ignoring her, and gave the TV his attention for real. Just before the Moment of Zen flashed up on screen, the apartment went dark. Distraction gone, Weevil knew it was only a matter of time before V picked up the crusade again. As it turned out, it was barely seconds.

"Okay, so if it wasn't the Fitzpat…"

Weevil shot up and turned around to face her. "Damn! Do you ever stop thinking? Listen, V, I get it, you want to help. This isn't your fight. Of all the fucked up shit that happens in Neptune, this is the kind I'm not gonna go questioning. If there's some big bad plan for me, I'm not gonna go looking for it. And if there isn't, it's between me and a judge, maybe some lawyers, and if I'm lucky, a jury not full of '09ers." As he leaned over her, he could see the moment when he changed from a puzzle for the petite detective to solve into a man invading her personal space. "Just let it go. Be a girl for a change."

She stared up at Weevil, fire in her eyes at the challenge. "I was being a girl. I was sitting in my living room, minding my own _girly_ business with daytime TV and ice cream, when you sloshed up. You're not doing a very good job of keeping your business to yourself." Veronica leaned towards Weevil, refusing to back down or drop her point. "There is no serendipity in this town. Neptune doesn't have an anonymous benefactor bailing good-hearted felons out of jail. Someone wants you out of jail for a capital-R-reason, and you're not even the least bit curious?"

"Oh, I'm curious, all right," Weevil drawled as he swept his eyes down Veronica's frame, "I've just got better uses for my curiosity right now. So tell me, what do pretty little white girls do when the power goes out?"

Veronica's face shifted to a wide-eyed Valley girl stare, and she would have bounced if she wasn't already too close to Weevil for comfort. "Ohmigod! Well, we could do each other's hair, and paint our nails, and totally prank call all the cute boys at school!" Distraction attempted, she relaxed back into the chair and met Weevil's eyes again, but he didn't look distracted, or particularly amused. She curled her legs up in front of her and held his stare until the silence sank in, and she realized the tempest outside had passed.

"Storm's over. You can save yourself from my "interrogation" now."

Weevil grinned and eased back to the couch again. "My clothes aren't dry, and I'm guessing if the power's out in here, it's probably out in the laundry room too."

"You could, oh I don't know, put your stuff back on anyway."

Weevil mock-shivered. "Man, have you ever tried to put wet denim back on? It's rough. And then you chafe, and we wouldn't want to damage anything important just 'cause you're scared you can't keep your hands off me."

"Hell, just keep my dad's stuff if that's what it takes for me to get back to my nice quiet vegging." When Weevil showed no signs of budging from the couch, she added, "Or you can just sit here and wait 'til the man of the house gets home, and explain to him which class project we're working on now, and why he shouldn't accidentally injure you while directing you to the door."

That seemed to do the trick. Apparently Weevil really was serious about having an uneventful stretch of freedom before his trial. Before he made it to the door, he turned around to where Veronica was still slouched in her chair. "Thanks. You know, for all of it."

"Weevil, humor me. Pretend for 5 minutes that this is your _life_ we are talking about."

When it looked like she was going to keep going, he cut her off. "It was worth it. Whatever handling Thumper brings down on me, it was worth it, and I'm ready to be a man and take what that got me. That's what you do for family. _That_ is my life." With that, Weevil nodded and headed out the door.

Not too many minutes later, and actually a day ahead of schedule, Keith got home. When he opened the door, Veronica was still sitting curled up in the chair, staring off into space. "So, I was driving back home, and I saw someone under the hood of a car who looked suspiciously like Eli Navarro, wearing something that looked suspiciously like my clothing. Now I know I've been gone a lot lately, but isn't it a bit early to be giving away my stuff?"


End file.
